#and moves in with Crawley
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Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Explicit When they’d been told to go forth and reproduce, the humans had really paid attention, Aziraphale decided, looking at how crowded the market was. Under the rays of the sun, listening to their chatter, he could almost forget for a moment that this was his life now. That it was a punishment rather than just another assignment.
It could be worse, he thought. He could have been dragged to Hell for real. The redhead demon could have just let him go there, making him someone else’s problem. What was it with Crawley and defying every single rule? Why was he protecting him?
Whatever the reason for that was, Aziraphale found himself wishing Crawley would never stop being himself.
“So, what do we do here?” Aziraphale nervously asked the demon.
“Mm? Oh, I was thinking petty theft.”
“You what ?”
“Y’know, just enough to keep them happy downstairs,” Crawley flashed an amused smile, “so that they don’t come to bug us. You make some people angry, send some reports back home ‘bout it, everybody is happy.”
“Except those you bugged up here.”
“Ah, but isn’t that the point of it?” Continue reading here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54816064/chapters/139458214#workskin Summary:
God was watching when Aziraphale ate the ox rib. When he conspired against Her and tricked her angels. When he lied to Heaven.
And falling should be bad, the worst thing to ever happen to him. Except that it's not. Crawley seems to want nothing but to protect him from Hell, to keep him close as he learns the ropes of being a demon assigned to Earth.
Maybe a side of their own is not such a bad and lonely thing after all.
------
This fic is part of the amazing @goodomensafterdark community!
#fanfic#fic#good omens#good omens after dark#smut with plot#smut with feelings#Aziraphale falls during the Job minisode#and moves in with Crawley#aziracrow#aziraphale#crowley#mesopotamia#very soft#fluff#domestic fluff#slice of life#slow burn#ineffable husbands#ineffable idiots#ineffable spouses#bildad
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@owlsinathens
Because, in the end, you're my sister and one day, only we will remember Sybil... or Mama or Papa or Matthew or Michael or Granny or Carson or any of the others who have peopled our youth... until, at last, our shared memories will mean more than our mutual dislike.
#oh#this is so moving#the crawley sisters#edith crawley#mary crawley#downton abbey#beautiful edits#queue
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Okay. Okay. I get that we all love Crowley calling Aziraphale 'angel' (bcz WHO FUCKING DOESN'T?? I MEAN, "Blasphemy? That's not not like you, angel." KILLS ME EVERY TIME) and obviously everyone wants Azi to have some cute little pet name for him (**ahem** 'dear' **ahem**) BUT JUST HEAR ME OUT.
BUT WHAT IF. The cute little pet name is literally just?? His name?? Like, I can't be the only one noticing how many times Aziraphale starts his sentences with 'Crowley,' even in the middle of a conversation with no one else around he could be talking to??
ANDANDAND he's the only angel who calls Crowley by his name as opposed to 'demon' (Yes, I'm talking about the fucking metratron rn) or 'the demon Crowley', 'the enemy', etc.
BUT THE THING IS, Crowley never TOLD Aziraphale his name the first time they met- we don't even know what his name WAS back when he was an angel- we know he's changed it before, and the original 'Crawley' doesn't seem particularly suited to an Angel ("well, you were a snake") so we don't even fucking KNOW the name heaven called him back when he was the starmaker.
Even hell barely call him Crowley, with the first scene of Ligur (literally one of the demons Crowley interacts with the MOST after Beezlebub and probably Hastur) featuring him asking "what's he calling himself these days?" (probably just another representation of how little hell actually cares about him, but moving on)
OVERALL, the only person (angel? being? idfk) to CONSTANTLY refer to him by name- whilst talking TO him, not ABOUT him- is Aziraphale. Personally, I think that constitutes a 'cute little pet name' 😇😇
#good omens#good omens 2#anthony j crowley#ineffable husbands#this show is insane#But slightly painful#Seriously this is so personal to me#aziraphale
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Prompt 11 - Essential
@jegulus-microfic July 11, Word count 693
“Sirius, why are there boxes of essential oils all over the flat?!” Regulus was startled awake by Remus shouting in the small flat. He’d moved in with his brother and his boyfriend a few weeks ago after his cousin Bellatrix caught him saying goodnight to the man he’d been on a date with. She’d taken pictures of him kissing the man goodnight and gone straight to his mother. When he got home, there was a box of his things on the doorstep. He’d knocked on the door when his key didn’t work and was greeted by Walburga Black sneering down at him. She showed him the pictures that Bellatrix had sent to her and told him he was no son of hers and to never darken their doorstep again.
Unsure of what to do, he phoned the only number on his phone that he’d never used. Sirius came and picked him up immediately and gave him a home. And that’s where he still was. It wasn’t too bad. He wasn’t afraid of coming home any more, so that was a bonus. It was just that the flat was tiny, and his brother was loud, and his friends were always there.
“It’s fine Remus, I’m going to put them all in our bedroom and sell them, everyone loves essential oils!” Sirius shouted back from his bedroom, snapping Regulus back to the present.
Sirius and Remus were throwing a party that night. Regulus was, of course, invited, but he planned to stay in his bedroom with his earphones on and binge-watch Downton Abbey. There was a loud yell and a bang from the living room. He jumped up and went to see what his brother had done now.
Sirius was sprawled on the carpet with ten small boxes on and around him.
“He tripped,” Remus said as a means of explanation. Regulus shook his head and started helping collect the boxes and store them in the other bedroom.
It wasn’t long before the party was in full swing and Regulus was deep into the tales of the Crawley family. He was, however, pulled from his viewing when his bedroom door flew open and James Potter blew in, shutting the door behind him.
“Can I hide in here?” He asked, looking around the small room for somewhere to hide.
“What? No.” Regulus screwed up his face in disgust. “Get out,”
“Oh come on, please,” James begged.
“Why do you need to hide?” Regulus was becoming interested against his better judgement. James snorted.
“I just put a ton of hot sauce in Sirius’s drink, and it’s only a matter of seconds before he takes a sip.”
“AHHHHHH!!! POTTER!!!” James’s eyebrows flew up his head as his eyes widened.
“Quick,” Regulus said, dragging his duvet up. “Curl up at the top of the bed,” James didn’t question him and did as he was told. Regulus threw the duvet over him, tucking in the edges and settled back, using him as a giant pillow and pressing play on his laptop again.
Sirius knocked on his door before peeping in.
“Reggie, you haven’t seen James, have you?” His voice was a little hoarse. Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop himself smiling.
“Nope, just me and Mary in here,”
“Mary? She’s out here,” Sirius looked behind him and pointed, “Yeah, she’s right there,”
“Not MacDonald. Lady Mary Crawley,” He huffed, spinning his laptop to show Sirius the screen.
“Oh, alright. If you see James though, I’m looking for him.”
“I’ll send him your way if I see him,” Regulus promised, his fingers crossed behind the laptop.
“You know you could come out and join us,” Sirius said hopefully.
“Sorry, I’m not really up to it,” He smiled a small smile at his brother.
“Maybe next time then,” Sirius returned the smile, but bigger. His eyes flicked around the room, and he quietly shut the door behind him.
“It’s clear,” Regulus said, jabbing his elbow into the soft lump behind him.
“Ooof!” James grunted but carefully rolled out of the cover. He plonked himself down next to Regulus and wrapped the duvet around their shoulders. “So what are we watching?”
#july 11#jegulus#jegulus microfic#jegulus fanfiction#jegulus fic#jegulus au#regulus black#james potter#regulus arcturus black#james fleamont potter#sirius black#remus lupin#mary macdonald#james x regulus#regulus x james#james and regulus#regulus and james#james potter x regulus black#Reggie totally watches downton abbey#James pranking sirius#hide me reg#forget about the party im staying in here#essential
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Poor, clueless Robert!
#downton abbey#feminine sensibilities#help me move this dead body mother#robert crawley#mary crawley#cora crawley#anna bates
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From "And furthermore, I don't think it's our place to start suggesting that there should be a suggestion box!"
I'm not even entertaining the idea that anyone else could possibly have ideas more worthwhile than whatever Heaven's upper brass is telling me God wants. The System is perfect.
to "You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley."
OK, so not everything God does makes moral sense, but that's just because it's too ineffable for us to understand.
to "I don't think that's what God wants. And I don't think you want it, either."
I don't always believe Heaven is right. Something in me is incompatible with the System. I'm hoping there's a greater good than the bureaucracy I work for.
to "I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."
I'm tacitly admitting that I don't like what Heaven is doing here, but I'm powerless within the System.
to "If I were thwarting you, Heaven couldn't object!"
You've helped me believe Armageddon isn't part of the Ineffable Plan after all. Now I believe I CAN do something to stop it.
to "I have no intention of fighting in any war!"
I'm making my own personal decision here, without consideration for what the System wants.
to "I can make a difference!"
I'm certain that I personally have ideas more worthwhile than the rest of Heaven. I can change the System.
The growth is happening. I know it's slow (well, if you're a human, anyway), but it's happening.
I am wondering if this character development is going to work like a huge outward (inward?) spiral. Take steps to add a new perspective, then use that to start working on the next Big Problem, then circle back to the old problems and start dealing with them with the new perspective. Things are kind of circular, but on a different level every time, hence the spiral.
The first three are like: Refuse questioning Heaven's judgment on moral grounds -> Accept that some questioning is natural but God/Heaven are always right -> Accept that maybe my personal judgment is not always compatible with Heaven's. OK, now I've tentatively accepted that I have my own morality outside of Heaven's, but that is SO uncomfortable.
The second three are like: I have my own moral judgments, but I have no way to enforce them because of what is expected of me -> Maybe there is room for my own judgment in Heaven after all -> Actually, my judgment is important enough to refuse to do what is expected of me regardless of anyone else's Plans. OK, now Aziraphale can use his own judgment within the System.
And I don't know for sure, but maybe - hopefully? - the last three will be like: I trust my own judgment -> My judgment never succeeds when I try to force it on others -> Everyone needs to be free from coercion and I'm going to help that happen by doing things to undermine the System.
That last bit is written with an assumption that the Ball and Gabriel and Beelzebub's ultimate decision are a little bit of foreshadowing: Aziraphale seizing control in a way that is sort of scary, having a bunch of Experiences(TM) with other people including Crowley, then realizing that the only reasonable way to handle people "outside the system" is to let them do what they want. If that's NOT foreshadowing, or if it's different foreshadowing than what I think it's going to be, obviously this is completely off.
Also, I feel like if I'm right, this could illuminate the horrible things Aziraphale says in the Final Fifteen a little bit. I believe he has moved up slightly from thinking Good and Evil are absolutely inherent and immutable, and now believes they are literally Sides that can be chosen. Of course you wouldn't choose to work for the side that has explicitly characterized itself as Bad, even though we both know you didn't have a choice to start with! I'm giving you a choice now! He hasn't "gone backwards." It's just that he's embraced the "doing good is a choice" lesson without internalizing the "you can't divide people into Sides and enforce it using a system" lesson.
#good omens#aziraphale#good omens spoilers#good omens 2 spoilers#Me blathering about Aziraphale again! What else is new?
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based on this post by @crawley-fell, i dreamed this up in a sleep-deprived haze and will now hopefully fall into bed. petition to get a moment like this in s3 because by god do i need it. this is pure comfort fluff and absolutely tooth-rottingly sweet.
-
Crowley watches him silently for a little while, arms crossed in front of his chest and leaning against the doorframe.
It's late, later than they usually eat dinner, but up until now he had been napping on the living room sofa, and regardless of how peckish he might feel, Aziraphale always waits for him. There is a pot with sauce simmering happily on the stove, not daring to burn or boil over under the angel's watchful gaze, and Aziraphale is humming along to a pop song he most definitely does not know but enjoys anyway. When Crowley darts out his tongue to taste the air, he recognises the freshness of basil leaves, which he probably took from the plant sprouting on the windowsill, and the familiar aroma of their favourite pasta.
A smile inadvertently tugs on his lips, small and soft, for no one but him, and maybe it is the wave of love following right after or simply his awareness of his presence that makes Aziraphale turn around. In the dimmed kitchen light, his blue eyes glint like polished sapphires.
"Done sleeping for now?"
Crowley uses his elbow to push himself into motion, his bare feet making the slightest of noises on the tiles, and slinks towards him.
"Mhhh," he responds as he presses up against Aziraphale's back, loosely wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his right shoulder. "Missed you."
Even with the cold seeping up through his soles, the heat radiating off of him is both comfortable and comforting, a steady assurance pulsing with his heartbeat. His hands unfurl, fingers splaying across his stomach, and the gentle give only has him tighten his hold, causing him to bury his face in the side of his neck. Embracing him like this, or in any manner at all, really, feels exactly what one imagines a cloud to be like, just infinitely better.
"Your nose is cold," Aziraphale hums, but he makes no attempt to move away, instead picking up his knife and continuing to cut up the recently picked basil leaves. Crowley rubs the tip of his definitely cold nose into his skin and brushes his even colder toes against his bare ankles for good measure, soaking up the amused giggle it elicits.
While he is indeed done sleeping for the next hour or two, he remains contentedly dazed, his eyes fluttering shut, and they lazily sway along to the music. Most of the light is blocked out either by Aziraphale's neck or the curtain of red hair falling into his face, growing longer by the day, and it is only by pure force of will that he doesn't drift off again right there and then.
Despite the many months they have spent in their cottage together, Crowley continuously marvels at the quiet, gentle, and not at all fragile peace they have gained—a garden for them and them alone, without forbidden apples or punishing celestial powers. Aziraphale sighs happily and drops the knife in favour of slotting their hands together, holding Crowley as he holds him, and he tips back his head, wiggling until he lifts his chin to kiss him.
"I love you," Crowley breathes, brushing their lips together again and again and again.
"I love you too."
(If the house hadn't long known better, dinner would have probably gone up in flames while they distracted each other for the better part of an hour; luckily, it would never dream of disrupting their 'us-time', let alone waking the wreath one hungry angel can unleash upon it.)
#alex writes good omens#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#south downs cottage
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I love how all the winner of the life series could essentially be the main character of their own story.
AND I'M HERE TO EXPLAIN IT TOO YOU!
Grian, the obvious, the original, there in the series because of him they're going through death games because of him and he's the only one who remembers the first one and is the only one who remembers the initial reason why they're there.
He was not doomed by the narrative. He doomed everyone else in the narrative and he asked to watch them die over and over again it's his fault he is the Doom in the narrative.
He's like a psychopathic main character trying to make everything right but it's not working out
Scott, because if Grian isn't the main character then it's Scott.
He figured out what Grian what Grian was BEFORE THE OTHER EVO MEMBER DID-
He knew that something was fucked up and he went against the Boogeyman causing him to move down a placement every other game. To be infected with coral diseases, and give his soul mate intentionally mental harm so that they'd hurt themselves to spite him.
He does everything for his friends, even if they don't remember. He does what he can for his husband, even as he watches him fall for a man other then him everytime.
He's making SACRIFICES for Grian mistakes, making sure that the next winners dont wake up in a cruel soulless void like he did.
Pearl, waking up after winning only to find out that the man she'd been made to hate so much actually let her win, and let her know the truth, and it's her own BROTHER'S FAULT/BESTIES FAULT THAT SHE HAD TO ENDURE ALL THAT.
She's now left with thought of what happened after Evo, how she hated someone that care so deeply for her safety that he literally committed suicide, and how her brother/bestie betrayed her.
Martyn, has been dealing with the voices inside his head for ages now. It is recognised by the previous winners so Scott teams with him to set him free.
He is now left, the winner of a game that he never wanted to play, a broken man. What happened to Ren? What happened to Evo? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M A LISTENER?!
It's Grian's fault that he has to deal with the voices in his head? Scott a man who cared for him so much he betrayed in an instant because of the voices he couldn't control? He'd Crawley thrown pearls to the side when it was clear she needed him most?
He has to now look Jimmy in the eyes, knowing what they are and who they used to be and continually failing to protect him, only spurred on by the fact that Scott never gave up on Jimmy too so why should he?
Scar, being the initial Collateral Damage to Grian's doings, once he wins he'll have to grapple with the fact and face his new reality. Like an ordinary man being hit with 10 to 15 trains.
He sacrificed himself in the first game for what he thought was his forever partner, his soul mate, only to be cheated on 2 games later? He was isolated and seen as a liability. You'd have to look pearl in the eyes and recognize their past actions of both torturing themselves and another.
The only man who had faith in him was Scott, allowing him to win that game but at what cost? Did he really have to know?
He's tired of not understanding... And the watchers will use his envy, hatred and raw confusion to there advantage, Grian's foil.
Cleo, seen as the underdog yet brash ally, she clawed her way to victory easily, within a day even.
She's immune to the Watchers effects, as you can see how the other winners were left poisoned.
Her friend Grian, the reason why she's here.
Scott, someone who tried to save her, by giving her knowledge.
Pearl, an evil to ally. An unwary friend.
Martyn, her soul mate and by technicality ex, driven into madness.
Scar, He's Scared he's anxious and he knows just as much as she does. He feels useless because others have treated him as such. Her own son, plagued with self-deprecating thoughts.
And the watchers taunt, as she has to put the piece back together of what they've broken. So that they can overcome and win.
#When they're all the main character#life series#life series smp#mcyt#grian mc#grian minecraft#grian#scott smajor1995#scott smajor#smajor1995#dangthatsalongname#flower husbands#< mentioned#pearlescentmoon#Pearl life series#hermitcraft pearl#martyn inthelittlewood#inthelittlewood#martyn littlewood#goodtimeswithscar#gtwscar#Gtws#Scar goodtimes#Scar#hermitcraft zombiecleo#zombiecleo#watchers#Evo smp#when you accidentally Doom the narrative because you're just a silly lil guy
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Hugh Bonneville promises 'new elements' and 'thrills and spills' in Downton Abbey 3
The actor tells Yahoo UK that he thinks the new film is the "best" of the franchise
Downton Abbey made some big changes on the big screen with 2022's A New Era, but Robert Crawley star Hugh Bonneville assures Yahoo UK that the upcoming third film will be even bigger and better than anything that has come before it.
Speaking with Yahoo UK for a Role Recall interview, the actor shares that the film feels like a "lovely coming together of people". Fans will be rivetted by what is to come for Robert and the Crawley family because the film is full of "spills and thrills" according to Bonneville, who took a break from production to promote his new ITV series Douglas is Cancelled.
"For my character, I think the usual [can be expected], which is that he's a sort of dinosaur trying to be led into the future reluctantly, and then eventually he stumbles forward a bit," Bonneville teases.
"So as always, there's that rhythm of things changing with glacial slowness, and Robert finally accepting that things [are changing] — it's time to move the story on, so to speak. It's got the usual tropes, if you like, of thrills and spills in a very Downtown [sic] way, which means spilling a tea cup pretty much!
"People who've watched the show over the years and have loved it will miss Maggie Smith's presence. She doesn't step out of the shower and it's all been a dream, she is gone.
"But, I think there's so much warmth and fun to enjoy, and new elements as well — which I won't spoil — that I think it'll certainly be the best iteration of the film versions yet."
The third Downton Abbey film will see the original cast return including Michelle Dockery, Elizabeth McGovern, Jim Carter and Laura Carmichael, while A New Era's Dominic West will also reprise his role as Guy Dexter. They will be joined by a host of new characters played by Paul Giamatti, Joely Richardson, Simon Russell Beale, and Alessandro Nivola.
Details of the story have not yet been revealed, but Bonneville's positivity about it seems like a good sign. The actor also spoke of how it still surprises him that the franchise has become as beloved as it has since the show first premiered in 2010 because it didn't originally seem like it would.
"It never ceases to amaze me, it did when it first started in 2010 and here we are, 14 years later, we're making a third movie," he explains. "At least one of our producers said, 'well, it's never gonna last beyond seven episodes anyway so don't lose too much sleep about this', and here we are all those years later still together.
"What's been really interesting is there's a whole new generation of people watching it and still finding it engaging, and also what's been rather touching, particularly over the pandemic, [was] when people were stuck at home and they revisited a show that had finished five years before.
"Each of us have had lots of letters from people saying: 'I used to watch it with my Gran', or 'my son who is now married', or 'my husband, who's now passed on', or whatever. It had an emotional resonance for the period of time that it was on, and people find comfort in it, and revisited it like a warm bath.
"I'm not complaining because it's been a wonderful part of my life and we're filming the third film at the moment, it's a lovely coming together of people I care deeply about, and that's just the fictional characters."
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Interstitial: The Library of Alexandria
Instead of a chapter, today there's a one-shot inspired by chapter 59.
********************
Crowley watched Aziraphale as he ran his finger lightly over the scrolls, looking for something in particular. He didn’t ask what it was he was searching for.
He didn’t really care.
He sat on the floor, ignoring whatever was digging into his shoulder. Something old and terrifyingly valuable, no doubt.
He sighed and took a swig from the jar of wine in his hand. “You going to be much longer?”
Aziraphale frowned at him. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”
Crowley grumbled something indecipherable and took another swig.
“It wouldn’t kill you to help, you know,” Aziraphale said, irritation clipping his words. “We’d be finished quicker if you would just-”
“You’d be finished quicker,” said Crowley.
Aziraphale glared at him from underneath his eyelashes. “Well, yes, but it hardly signifies. It comes down to the same thing, surely? The sooner I find the scroll the sooner we can break for lunch.”
“I fail to see the incentive. I’ll remind you that you’re the one who’s been banging on about that fish thing since we ran into each other this morning.”
“Be that as it may-”
“Anyway, helping you would be against my job description, wouldn’t you say?” Crowley crinkled his nose. “Bit unprincipled from a demonic perspective, to be helping your lot with… whatever it is you’re doing.”
“I assure you this is entirely personal,” sniffed Aziraphale.
“Be that as it may…” imitated Crowley, his tone entirely mocking.
Aziraphale shot him an annoyed look and crouched to examine the shelves at Crowley’s feet.
Crowley took another swig and let out a deeply contented sigh. There was nothing like needling the angel to brighten his day. He let his shoulders fall back against the scrolls, enjoying the satisfyingly soft crunch of crumpling papyrus and the equally satisfying look of horror on the angel’s face at the sound.
“Crawley!” He hissed, sounding appalled. If they hadn’t been in a library Crowley imagined it would probably have been an indignant shout.
“It’s Crowley now,” he reminded him blandly.
Aziraphale hurried to his side, placing a hand against the dip at the base of his spine and sliding it up to his shoulders, neatly pulling him forward and away from the damaged scrolls behind him.
“You can’t do that! These scrolls are invaluable!”
Crowley ignored the strange prickling heat he felt at the angel’s touch.
“How do you know? You haven’t even looked at them yet, they could be…” he scrambled, “... a painstaking account of someone’s dreams! Or the ramblings of a madman! Honestly, look at this place, it’s packed to the gills with scrolls. They can’t all be important.”
“This is the finest collection of written material in the world, Craw- Crowley. Of course they’re all important!” Aziraphale was still supporting Crowley’s back with one arm as the fingers of the other smoothed out the creases in the scrolls behind him.
Crowley gave no sign of intending to support his own body weight.
“Move,” Aziraphale said commandingly, shoving him upright. Crowley bounced forward, head falling against his chest, looking like a puppet with cut strings. He sat like that for a moment, listing forward, as he listened to the soothing sound of the angel putting everything to right. He wondered if Aziraphale might touch him again if he lay back and crumpled more scrolls.
He might.
Or he might discorporate him for crimes against papyrus.
He put the jar to his lips and drank deeply. Wine. What a marvellous discovery. It was the only good thing to come out of that whole mess with Noah. The rainbow-
Well, the rainbow was fine, he supposed. But the wine …!
Truthfully, he’d needed it to get over that atrocity. He couldn’t understand how Aziraphale had managed to take it so in stride. The cries, the bloated bodies, the smell… He shuddered and swallowed down a large gulp of wine.
“I know I’ve already told you-” started Aziraphale at the sound of the wine sloshing against the side of the jar.
“Yes, yes, shouldn’t drink in the library-” mumbled Crowley, waving the jug in front of him at the same time as Aziraphale continued, “You really shouldn’t drink in the library. What if you spill it?”
Crowley tried to look offended. “As if I would! Nectar of the Gods, lest you forget,” he said pointing at the jar.
“There is only one God as you very well know,” said Aziraphale primly, kneeling to face Crowley. “I’d thank you to refrain from such blasphemy when you find yourself in my company.” He looked extremely disapproving, hands folded in his lap, a frown etched on his face as he eyed the jar in Crowley’s hand.
He could be so sanctimonious sometimes. It really was unbearable.
Continue reading....
#good omens#ineffable idiots#crowley and aziraphale#aziraphale x crowley#good omens fanfic#aziracrow#good omens fanfiction#crowley#ineffable divorce#ineffable#ineffable husbands fic#ineffable husbands#ineffable spouses#good omens fic#good omens fic request#good omens oneshot#azcrow#azicrow#crowley x aziraphale#aziraphale#the library of alexandria#wine tasting
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Day 01
@jilytoberfest
AO3 || FF
🎶 “Before the dawn I hear you whisper in your sleep, ‘Don’t let the morning take him.’” 🎶 - Judas Priest - Before the Dawn.
James had been gone for most of the night. The Order had gotten details of dark magic being registered in Crawley and there was a stake out with James, Sirius and the Gideon brothers, trying to see if the allegations were true.
Most of the night they had been squinting in the dark trying not to get caught. At some point they split and Sirius decided to turn into Padfoot, see if they could manage to get their other senses to work properly and get this sorted sooner rather than later, because the autumn night had them beat and soaken due to the light rain that did not seem to stop.
It was 4am when they finally decided that whatever it was that was tipped to the Ministry it was either a poor bloke’s imagination or just false alarms. And it was 4:20 when, after getting home and finally out of the damped clothes and into warm pyjamas, James got into bed next to his wife.
Sleep did not find James, even with Lily next to him, in the safety and warmth of their home, his mind kept thinking of the outside world. How it seemed that no matter how much they tried the prospect of seeing the end of the war was almost none. No matter how many missions they took, or how many tips they followed, it felt like Voldermot and their followers were ages ahead of them.
He sighed, as if trying to push the bad thoughts away. To try and hold on to hope.
Lily stirred next to him, and he could not help but turn to his side.
Her hair cascaded on her pillow, and he could smell the faint scent of her apple shampoo and floral perfume from the day before.
His heart twisted familiarly, with a love so immense that it could not be contained by just that muscle, and all his worries quieted as he let love take it all.
James let the familiar weight of Lily’s body next to him anchor him to his marriage, to his family and love. Letting go of the worries of dark wizards and even obscure plans, and just letting himself remember to feel the happiness, the hope that this too shall pass and that what would remain would be them.
Lily moved beside him once more, whimpers escaped her lips as if in pain, her hands holding onto something; the sheets, the matters, even her pillow; as if she was preventing someone from leaving. “Not him,” she pleaded in her sleep, “not James…” she continued, and James realised that she was having a nightmare.
He moved swiftly and carefully shook Lily’s shoulder, “Lily,” he shook her again, “Love, it’s just a nightmare, I’m here.” he repeated a couple of times, until she was finally awake, her green eyes bright even in the darkness, looking everywhere, as if there was some ghost that would get them if she was not alert.
“It was just a dream.” he repeated, his hand on her cheek, moving it to look at him, to pay attention to his words, his touch. “I’m right here.”
It took a moment for Lily’s eyes to focus back on James, his worried face, also his squinting eyes due to the lack of specs. All Lily could do was stare, look at the man in front of her and how he looked worried, tired, but okay. He was safe, he was not in any dungeon being tortured, or almost dead in an unknown place, he was there, with her. Her heart filled with relief.
“J-james,” she choked a sob and held him close, feeling all of him, his thinning frame, his tousled hair, his safe arms, even the raspy five shadow beard that was about to grow. The soft and rough edges all mixing into one thing: James. “You’re s-safe,” she repeated, more to calm herself than for any of them to be sure.
“I am,” he said softly, just holding her close, his hand rubbing her back softly. Hoping somehow that it would calm her. “I’m home, we are okay.” he repeated and let her cry, because the gods knew that they needed to vent their frustrations from time to time.
“I’m so happy.” she replied, in contrast with her tears, but he knew they were of relief and not of sadness. That sometimes the world was too much and you needed to come undone.
After a while Lily calmed, the sun started to come out slowly, the room catching the yellow and oranges of dawn, James and Lily just holding each other; James finally asleep, Lily praying that morning would not take him, that this was not just a dream within a dream.
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"...And his grumpy friend, Mr. Crowley." "The demon." "Oh, I suppose that explains the grumpiness."
Okay I'm still thinking, because it's not the fall that made Crowley angry, not on its own, anyway. It's nothing inherent to being a demon. Being an angel again wouldn't fix anything.
It was the flood. It was the flood, and then Job, and Jesus.
The fall sowed the seeds, obviously. But until the flood, it's like Crowley had a bit of hope that things might be different. And the flood is the confirmation that God claiming to love and taking it away isn't just a one time thing. That they're just going to keep doing it, over and over again. And with the shift from the flood to Job, the only thing that's going to change is God isn't going to say sorry anymore, no more rainbows because we're all going to pretend it's hell's fault now.
Pictures beneath the cut:
There's still an innocence to Crawley in Eden. His attitude is… playful. He's kinda bouncy. His questions and his doubt are like, mildly frustrated at best. Overall, a pretty chill demon.
When he first pops up in Mesopotamia, same thing. He's excited to see Aziraphale, to tease this weird angel some more.
And he is bouncy with energy right up until Aziraphale says "Wiping out the human race." And Crawley goes still.
He keeps falling into stunned disbelief, right up until:
And there's the anger. Humans have only been here 1000 years before God withdrew their love.
Now, Job. Land of Uz. About 500 years later. A much more subdued Crawley, monologuing to goats. Projecting on them like he will his plants, but with a little more sympathy. Hey, at least they're getting an answer.
And then Aziraphale shows up, and even after he drops the angelic light show, Crawley...
Doesn't really move? Barely engages with him? Night and day to the last time they saw each other, and being reminded of the flood can't have helped.
The only smiles we see here are these awful grimaces.
I'm going to skip ahead to Crucifixion. Aziraphale is a little bit on his side now. But what does that even mean?
Crowley's back to slithering up behind Aziraphale in a move very similar to Mesopotamia, but way more stiff. Waits to hear whether Aziraphale agrees with this.
They watch the horrible death of a very bright young man, who (like Job) doesn't blame God for abandoning him. Who only asks for forgiveness for the people doing this to him.
Whose death forgives the sins of those who ask for it.
But still not Crowley. Not that he wanted it or anything.
No, Angel, I am what I am, if that bothers you leave me alone.
But he doesn't. And we see Crowley's first real smile in a very long time.
#v watches good omens#crowley#good omens meta#good omens spoilers#good omens 2#good omens 1#i'll just be gnawing on the Job flashback forever probably
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Let Your Heart Decide
Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "a clinging hug"
Until a moment ago, Aziraphale had been quite happily splashing about in the river shallows and watching the ducks. Enjoying himself thoroughly, quite at peace and hoping to stay that way for some time.
As soon as he heard the screams, though, he headed for the riverbank. Perhaps someone was injured and needed healing. It would be nice to help.
Goodness, though, that was rather a lot of raised voices! He clambered out onto the bank, water dripping from his robes, and set off towards the shouting.
It seemed as if half the little village was shouting, all rushing across the sand, many waving spears. And in front of them, slithering desperately, was a large black and red serpent.
“Oh!” Aziraphale cried, rushing forward. “Oh, I say, there’s no need—”
Five spears jabbed towards Crawley. Two missed. Three didn’t.
Crawley screamed as the spears pierced him, a terrible noise that stopped the villagers in their tracks.
“Oh no!” Aziraphale rushed forward towards the writhing mass of pinned coils and got between him and the villagers. “Stop, stop! You mustn’t do this!”
More spears raised. “This thing was near our village!” one of the humans shouted. “It wanted to eat our livestock, our children!”
“Oh, no. I’m quite sure he didn’t.” Aziraphale didn’t back down, not even when the spears angled in his direction. The thought of doing so, of leaving even a demon to be hurt, was absolutely unbearable. “Look, just stop. I’ll tend to the snake, and you can go back to your homes and do… whatever you do. Make more nice pots, tend to your sheep, doesn’t that sound lovely?”
“We want to kill the snake!”
“No, you certainly don’t,” Aziraphale said, this time imbuing his voice with a trace of Heaven’s power. Guilt wrenched at him for the misuse, but it didn’t stop him. “You want to go back home, and… be loving and kind to all living things. Go on, now.”
Slowly, the humans turned and shuffled away. They grumbled amongst themselves as they went, casting unfriendly glances back. But at least they went.
Aziraphale waited until they were at a distance, then twisted around and dropped to his knees in the bloody sand. Crawley wheezed, tongue dangling from his open mouth, eyes glassy. “Oh, oh, you poor dear. Let me get these spears out of you, easy now.”
He rested his hand on Crawley’s heaving side, scales damp with blood, and drew out the first of the spears. Crawley gave another wheezing cry, his coils wriggling weakly.
“It’s all right, we’ll be done in no time at all.” Aziraphale wasn’t at all certain it was all right. Crawley was bleeding very badly, and unusually quiet aside from the noises of pain. What if it was already too late?
It vaguely occurred to Aziraphale again that he absolutely should not be doing this. He did it anyway.
After all, if humans must be kind and loving to all living things, that was even more vital for an angel. Crowley was a living thing, one of God’s creations even if an abandoned one. Therefore, it made perfect sense to heal him.
“There,” he murmured, smoothing away the last of the wounds and then miracling away the blood. Crawley still hadn’t spoken, just lying there limp in the sand. “Crawley? Are you okay?”
Crawley’s tongue flicked again. “Yesss,” he finally said, voice weak. “I… thought they were gonna dissscorporate me.”
“I thought they were too. But I couldn’t allow that to happen.” He tried very hard not to think about how inappropriate it was to rescue a demon. “You’re all patched up now, just take it easy, try not to move too quickly—”
Quite abruptly, Crawley moved rather a lot. He collided with Aziraphale’s chest and coiled around him, trembling, clinging to him.
“Oh!” Aziraphale automatically hugged the coils close, stroking Crawley’s scales. “There now, shh. It’s quite all right. You’re all right.”
Crawley didn’t answer, just shivering. He wound around Aziraphale, almost constricting, and hid his face in the folds of Aziraphale’s cream robes.
“Shhh, I’m here,” Aziraphale murmured, settling back in the sand. “I have you. I won’t let anything happen to you, Crawley.”
“Don’t understand why.” Crawley shuddered again, and Aziraphale cooed as he stroked the scales. “M’ a demon. Why would you sssave me?”
“Um. Well.” Aziraphale scrambled for an excuse, and fell back on the one he’d used earlier. “I-I am an angel, after all. A being of love. It’s only right that I care for you.”
Crawley lapsed into silence again, just tightening his coils. Aziraphale held him, humming quietly, and waited.
Finally, Crawley spoke again. “I wasn’t trying to eat their kidsss or sheep or anything. I was just ssssunning.”
“I know. Well, I didn’t know about the sunning, but I know you didn’t intend anyone harm.” Although Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure *why* he knew that. He ought to always suspect a demon of doing harm. But somehow, looking at the trembling serpent, he simply couldn’t suspect that. “Perhaps you shouldn’t sun near humans again? It doesn’t seem very safe.”
Crawley hissed in agreement. “Definitely not sssunning near humans again. Really didn’t go well.”
“Not very, no.” Another idea occurred to Aziraphale, an urge he should not give into. He gave in anyway. “You’re quite welcome to sun near me, you know. I’d be happy to watch over you.”
“Really?” Coils sliding around Aziraphale’s arm, Crawley adjusted to gaze up at him, golden eyes curious. “You really do care, don’t you?”
“I said I did, didn’t I?” Aziraphale ignored the pit of guilt still looming below him. “Angels ought to care about everyone. That’s all there is to it.”
Crawley was silent again, as if considering that. Then, very quietly, he said, “I didn’t think *anyone* could care about me. Not after I Fell.”
The pain in his voice wrenched at Aziraphale’s heart. He wrapped his arms more securely around Crawley’s coils, hugging him close. “Well, I do. And you’re quite welcome to cling to me for as long as you like.”
“Demonsss don’t cling,” Crawley grumbled.
Aziraphale snorted softly, but he didn’t argue. He simply stayed with the frightened serpent, holding him gently. And now, he didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt over extending kindness.
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Playing Pretend (Part 3)
Dinner, dessert, and realizing someone might get hurt.
Roy Kent x Reader
2.8k words
Warnings: Language, plenty of pining, "only one bed" trope I guess
A/N: Came out a bit longer than I intended, but I'm not complaining!
Series Masterlist
Roy’s arm was still wrapped around your shoulder, fingers tracing circles on your bare skin as he laughed at something your brother-in-law said. Another reason you’d picked Roy to be your fake boyfriend: he got along perfectly with your family and didn’t need to create some fake personality to make them like him. They adored Roy. It was probably your dad’s deepest dream to have the two of you get together.
You had caught the look on your dad’s face as he watched you across the room. His smile was that soft, gentle smile, the one he’d worn when you were a kid receiving an award, or when you learned to ride a bicycle, or when he helped you move into your first place all on your own. It was his proud, I love you so much smile. And it broke your heart a little, knowing that he’d be so sad when you and Roy “broke up” after the wedding. Almost as sad as you would be when the weekend ended, and Roy went back to just being your friend’s big brother who you pined after in silence.
But for now, you laid your head on his shoulder as your older sister shared some silly story about your nephew, enjoying the rumbling you felt when he chuckled, that gruff sound that made your heart skip a beat.
He leaned close and whispered in your ear, “How’m I doing?”
Ignoring the shiver his breath sent down your spine, you nodded. “Perfect,” you answered quietly. Just as your gaze flickered down to his mouth, wondering how many kisses you could get away with by excusing them as part of the “act”, a housekeeper came in and announced dinner, asking everyone to follow her to the dining room.
Roy was on his feet immediately, holding his hand out to help you up. “Feel like I’m on an episode of fucking Downton Abbey,” he hissed, smirking.
“What do you know about Downton Abbey?” you teased with a laugh.
“I know you’ve got a fucking thing for Matthew Crawley,” he shot back, raising his eyebrows at you.
Feeling like you were being watched, you gripped Roy’s arm affectionately. “Is someone jealous?” you cooed.
“Maybe,” was the small growl before Roy’s lips connected with yours again for a brief, heated moment that made your heart skip a beat. “Is this alright?” he whispered, nose brushing affectionately against yours as everyone else walked past the two of you. “The kissing?” His eyes were full of concern, a look he often gave you when he got protective. As any guy would of his baby sister’s best friend- right?
You shrugged coyly. “Getting to spend my weekend snogging a handsome footballer kind of helps take the sting out of the whole ‘my sister is marrying my ex’ bullshit.”
The smile he wore was a surprised one. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Oh, shut up, you know you are,” you tutted, giving him a playful shove as you moved past him into the dining room. With your back to him you missed the fierce blush that covered his face as he shook his head and watched you, that big smile remaining despite no one being around to see it.
Once everyone had settled in their seats, Jim’s dad raised a glass. “Thank you all for joining us to celebrate our only son and his lovely bride-to-be,” he started, nodding to Jim and Lauren, who sat directly across from Roy and yourself. “It’s going to be a very busy weekend, so it’s nice to have the opportunity to have our first official meal as a family before the festivities.” His eyes lingered on you for a moment, wistfulness flickering across his face for a brief moment.
When you and Roy had arrived at the house and were searching for your room, you’d bumped into Jim’s parents in the hall; there was a lot of clearing of throats and avoiding eye contact from all three of you as you re-introduced them to Roy, informing them that the two of you were now dating. Jim’s mother looked almost disappointed at the news, the corners of her mouth tugging downward, before recovering and offering her congratulations.
Jim’s dad continued his little toast. “I hope this weekend is full of wonderful memories for our new family and that this is the first of many celebrations we share.”
As everyone raised their glasses in agreement, Roy reached under the table for your hand, despite the fact that no one could see it. While you marveled at how determined he was to convince the whole table of your farce, Roy knew the truth: he wanted to hold your hand, plain and simple. And after all this time, this weekend finally gave him excuse to hold it as much as he wanted. There was no way he was going to waste that.
He did reluctantly have to let go once dinner was served, but not without bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your hand first. Across the table, Jim’s eyes narrowed slightly, before he turned to Lauren, acting like the picture of the attentive fiancé. You couldn’t help but notice the more Roy leaned over to whisper jokes in your ear, or found an excuse to touch your hand, or acted generally boyfriend-y, the more Jim mirrored that affection with Lauren. You did your best not to dwell on the observation, instead focusing on how nice it was to have Roy Kent by your side.
When dessert was served, Jim’s mum suggested taking it outside to enjoy the lovely night. Roy grabbed your bowl before you could and planted a kiss on the top of your head.
“Just grab the spoons, yeah, love?”
Love. Roy Kent just called you love. You’d seen him with other women he’d dated- really dated- and you’d never heard him call any of them love. The word stopped the breath in your chest as you reminded yourself that he was playing a role, acting as the perfect doting boyfriend.
But goodness, you liked the way it sounded.
You led Roy to the garden, where Roy nodded to a bench nestled under a low tree, a bit away from where everyone else was sitting.
“Mind if we sit over here?”
Your chest purred with pleasure at the idea of being alone with him in the secluded little corner, even if just for show. “Sounds good,” you managed.
Roy watched you carefully as you sat down before joining you on the bench, sitting closer than he had to, pressing his thigh against yours. He knew, deep down, that he was kind of taking advantage of the situation, that he was just a friend doing you a favor, but fuck, when was he going to get another chance like this? To dote on you, to touch you, to kiss you, to show you how mad about you he was. He would worry about getting his heart broken later.
“How you feelin’?” he asked, trading your dessert for one of the spoons you held out.
You shrugged as you took the bowl that he handed you. “Alright.” Your gaze flickered to Jim and Lauren, who were chatting with Jim’s parents. Jim’s eyes locked with yours for a brief moment before you turned back to Roy, who watched you with a frown. “How are you? You’re doing a great job with this whole boyfriend thing. You’re a natural.”
Roy turned his focus to his dessert, ignoring how tight his chest felt. “I’m fuckin’ fine. More concerned with you, actually. I’m sure all this… is hard.” He lifted his head to look at you. “It fucking sucks. Watching the love of your life be in love with someone else. Really fucking sucks.”
Something in the fiery way he looked at you sent a shiver down your spine. “Yeah. This is pretty damn difficult.” After a moment, you shook your head. “But… I don’t think Jim was the love of my life.” Roy’s raised eyebrows urged you on. “I mean, I loved him. Really, I did. And I would’ve married him. And it hurts like hell watching him marry someone else, never mind who it is.” You shrugged. “But he wasn’t the love of my life,” you repeated firmly.
“How d’you know?” Roy leaned towards you intently, both of you completely forgetting about the sweets in your hands.
“I don’t,” you admitted with a soft chuckle. “But I have to keep telling myself that, don’t I? Have to keep hope that the real love of my life is still out there, looking for me as much as I’m looking for him.”
Roy’s heart was on fire listening to you. He wanted so badly to tell you that he was right fucking there, that he’d been there for years. He wanted to give you a real kiss and whisk you away to the swanky bedroom you were sharing. Fuck, he wanted to offer to take Jim and Lauren’s place in front of the officiant on Saturday if you were keen.
Instead, he gave you a small, understanding nod. “Should write that down, it’s fucking beautiful.” And you knew he meant it. “Right. Well. I am… going to find a fucking bathroom.” He stood, putting down his bowl and forcing a playful smirk. “Don’t eat my fucking dessert, and if I’m not back in an hour, send a search party, see if I fell into a moat or got caught in a dungeon or some shit.” He bent down and kissed the top of your head before walking briskly into the house, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“You two were having a pretty serious conversation from the looks of it,” your father’s voice mused.
You looked up at your father, who was observing you carefully. “Just about how weird this weekend is,” you half-lied. “He just wanted to make sure I was okay.”
He nodded. “Well, I’m sure it’s strange for him too. Watching you watch your ex get married.” He bobbled his head. “Be easy on him.”
You shook your head. “Roy knows there’s no feelings there. Just awkwardness, really. He completely understands.”
“He’s a good guy. You know I’ve always thought so.” He laughed. “We’re all just glad you two finally figured it out.”
“Right. Right.” You thought for a moment about the way your family wasn’t completely surprised by your new “relationship”. “You know, I’m still not sure what I was missing all those years. What did everyone see that I didn’t?”
A smile crossed his face. “Really, love? You never noticed the way that fella looked at you? All wide-eyed and flushed? Or the way he’d run himself ragged during matches when he knew you were there, just to impress you? There was one Christmas he came home, and I swear he took one look at you and looked ready to quit football just so he could stay with ya.” He chuckled. “Just glad he finally made his move.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You giggled weakly, pretending you’d noticed those things. “And was I just as obvious?”
“God, maybe worse,” your dad chortled, slapping his hands together with glee. “Where to start? Always finding a reason to talk to him, screaming like a banshee whenever you watch him play, and your mother and I overheard more than one late-night call to Sunderland when he was away. I’m just surprised it took him so long to realize how in love you’ve always been.”
Roy chose that moment, with your face starting to warm, to return. He nodded to your dad as he resumed his seat beside you. “Alright there?” He scrunched his eyebrows together. “Your face is all red.” He leaned close and planted a kiss on your cheek, relishing the heat against his lips. “Fucking cute when you blush,” he hummed. His own cheeks reddened when your dad cleared his throat, reminding Roy that he had an audience. “Fuck. Sorry,” he hissed.
Your dad held his hands up in defeat. “Can’t blame you two for wanting to make up for lost time.” He clapped your shoulder lovingly and returned to your mother, who was watching you with a soft smile.
Deciding to let yourself lean into things as much as Roy, you leaned your chin on his shoulder, gazing up at him adoringly. “Feeling kind of tired,” you murmured. “Thinking I’ll head to bed.”
Sure enough, he pecked your forehead. “I’ll join you.”
Rather quickly, you noticed, Roy grabbed your forgotten desserts and carried them to the table Jim and Lauren sat at. You followed him, offering a small wave to everyone.
“Goodnight,” you called.
Lauren raised an eyebrow. “More alone time?”
You wrapped your arms around Roy’s middle and squeezed tight. “Just a bit knackered. And I know tomorrow’s a busy day, want to be well-rested.”
Jim offered a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Goodnight then.”
Conversely, Roy’s smile was wide. “Have a great night, Jim.” He nodded to everyone else before taking your hand and leading you inside.
As the two of you walked down the hall to your room, you couldn’t help but realize that Roy was still holding your hand; you told yourself it must be in case someone happened to see you. That had to be it; Roy committing to this whole fake-relationship thing.
Once you were in the room, you each silently went about getting ready for bed, with Roy letting you use the restroom to change. You quickly removed your makeup, brushed your teeth (longer than usual), and changed into your pyjamas, feeling suddenly a bit shy in your sleeping shorts and oversized shirt. But Roy’d seen you in pyjamas plenty of times; how was this really any different?
For Roy, it was completely different. His breath caught in his throat when you walked out of the bathroom and his grip on the t-shirt he was about to put on tightened. It wasn’t necessarily the view- which admittedly drove him mad- but the knowledge that, in just a few minutes, you’d be in bed. With him.
Likewise, your heart hammered as you once again saw his bare chest- or “bear chest”, as Paul once joked at a pool party. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed when he tugged on his black shirt, covering the hair and the light blush that covered his skin.
“D’you care which side?” he grumbled, pulling back the covers. He knew he should offer to sleep on the floor or something, but he knew you didn’t mind; how many times had you fallen asleep leaning against him on the couch? Or that time your families had gone camping and you had begged him to cuddle with you because it was so fucking cold?
Sure enough, you shrugged and helped him pull back the blankets. “Up to you.”
With a grunt, Roy threw himself on the bed, grinning when you did the same. “Only took, what, thirty years. But look at us, our first slumber party.”
You rolled your eyes and brought the blankets over yourselves; Roy couldn’t help but notice the tender way you made sure he was covered. “Roy, I spent the night at your house so many times growing up. We absolutely had slumber parties.”
He shook his head with a small breathy laugh. “Come on. You weren’t there for me.”
Not knowing what came over you, you turned onto your side and propped yourself up on your elbow, your eyes tracing Roy’s profile. “Who said I wasn’t?” you teased.
It was Roy’s turn to roll his eyes. “Oh, fuck off,” he grumbled, smile playing on his lips. “Go the fuck to sleep.”
With that, he turned and clicked off the lamp that sat on the nightstand, leaving you in darkness, wondering how you were going to sleep with the knowledge that Roy Kent was right next to you. Miraculously, you did finally fall asleep, listening to Roy’s soft snores that you knew you’d have to tease him about.
The next morning, you woke up with your head on Roy’s chest, his arm wrapped around you tenderly as he continued to snooze.
Fuck.
Your breath became shallow as you tried to figure out what to do. Gently pull out of his grasp? Stay this way and hope he woke up and removed his arm? Part of you- fine, all of you- wished you could wake up this way every morning.
Carefully, you removed Roy’s arm, the spot where his hand had been quickly becoming cold, and rolled over as slowly as you could, not stopping until you were flat on your back, a safe distance from Roy. Holding in a sigh, you stared at the ceiling, wondering if you’d be able to get through this weekend with your heart in one piece.
#he's here he's there he's every fucking where#roy kent#roy kent playing pretend#roy kent x reader#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent fic#roy kent fluff#roy kent fanfic#ted lasso#ted lasso fluff#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso fic#ted lasso fanfiction
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Hello! (previous url crawley-fell)
I'm Lily, I like making silly moving pictures and shit posting about Good Omens. I'm 28, live in London, and I don't take myself too seriously. My inbox/dms are always open 💛 tracking #usercrawls
Links:
All creations
The Brainrot Series & requests & original post
Profile Series
The Grindr Series
Broadchurch - Hardy's Wettest Moments
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Gonna Give All My Secrets Aw-a-ay
Warnings: 18+readersonly, smut, fingering, breast worship, pet names
Copyright: I do not own any Twilight characters or locations. I do own Davina Mikelson and Marcel. I also own the backstory for my OC. I do not condone any copying of this.
Davina P.O.V.
Birds are annoying. I mean, seriously. When you're trying to sleep and they're just going "Cheerp cheerp! CHEERP CHEERP!" Honestly, it sounds like they're screaming.
The pain had been immense, the way I imagined being a vampire and being set on fire must feel. You know, if you're set on fire alive. They weren't kidding when they said becoming a vampire was painful.
I much preferred the vampire diary way. Drink some vampire blood. Snap your neck. Ba bam- you're a vampire.
I wondered how long it was exactly that I was out. I knew it ranged anywhere between two to five days, depending on where the venom was injected and lots of other lovely factors. The stronger the heart, the shorter the time. And if the venom was injected into the heart or near it, then it was more on the two to three day side.
Of course, the ending brought tears that couldn't spill to my eyes. Watching memories. I could see everything that had ever happened in my life play backwards. From the pain, to the wedding, the Marcel's changing, to the newborn fight, to spying on Seattle, to being in Kentucky with some of my family, finding out I was a werewolf, Sam's sister, and then there was Laurent trying to kill me, Edward telling me about them leaving, being in the hospital because of James, coming to Forks, the last few years of working to get a plane ticket, the bombs going off, Azim and I kissing, Azim and I laughing, meeting Azim's parents, going to gymnastics meets and Tae Kwon Do competitions, learning military strategy, moving to the base, being back in Forks, running around with Paul and Sam, swimming in the ocean, Kol's birth, Josh arguing with Sam's mother, a four year old playdate with Tyler Crawley, and then being born in a hospital.
My eyes snapped open. The pain was gone. Good. It felt like I had been burning for years.
The first thing I heard were birds and I almost groaned in annoyance. But I could also hear squirrels crunching on nuts, rabbits sprinting through the forest, a mountain lion- or maybe a bear but it definitely had hunting feet- walking over stone and rock, the violent flapping of hummingbird wings.
Feeling wise, I could feel the soft fabric of the sheets beneath me. Soft, fluffy, and warm. I could also feel that I was wearing something made of silk, but I didn't move my head to look down quite yet.
As for the smells. . . I could smell so many different smells. There was cinnamon, hyacinth, pear, sourdough bread, pine, vanilla, leather, apple, moss, lavender, chocolate, lemon and lime, tomato sauce, almonds-ew-, roses, jasmine, lilies, plastic, and so many other different smells. The strongest smell was seawater.
I took in a shuddering breath, feeling the air move through my lungs, but not really. I looked around the room. The ceiling was white, dust motes flying in the air. I could read the titles of all the books on the shelf across the room.
I sat up slowly, moving my legs over to the side of the bed, getting to my feet. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and stared in horror at the red eyes. My dark hair and pale complexion gave me a Snow White complexion. I was just missing the blue eyes.
I had been lucky with my complexion though. I had been captured in a mid-tan state, my dark skin coming out only after being in the sun for long periods of hours. I now looked Half-Cullen like, Half- Quileute like and I loved it.
I pursed my lips at the choice of dress Alice had clearly dressed me in. It was a green colour that balanced out the skin and eyes nicely. Except for the fact that I was not wanting to be in it. I much rather wanted to wake up in jeans and a T-shirt.
I could hear voice downstairs and I could distinguish Emmett, Jasper, Carlisle, Alice, and Bree's voices.
I darted down the stairs, stopping in front of Alice, my arms crossed angrily.
"Davina!" Carlisle said in surprise, "You're up early."
"Early?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"It's only been two days." Emmett said, looking me over, "Looking good Mama bear."
"Really Alice?" I questioned, gesturing to the dress. "Really?"
"What? It's a wonderful dress to go on your first hunting trip in." Alice said, putting an elbow on Jasper's arm.
I looked at her incredulously, "You want me to go hunting in. . . this?"
Jasper shifted uncomfortably, "That's what you care about?"
I looked up at my favorite son, "What do you mean?"
Jasper looked confused, "I don't understand this."
I stared at him blankly and then looked around for an explanation. Bree was the one who answered, "He means. . . you care more about the idea of your hunting attire than thirst."
"Oh." I said, thinking. I concentrated on my throat but I didn't feel anything. "Where should I feel. . . hungry?"
They all stared at me in surprise, "In your throat." Emmett explained.
I concentrated and then shook my head, "Maybe I'm just not thirsty yet."
"Maybe we should go hunting anyways." Carlisle suggested, reaching out to take my hand. I slid my hand into his, feeling the smoothness of his palm, the creases where the lines were, and finding that he was no longer cold nor hot, but that we were the same temperature now.
I looked up at him, staring into his honey coloured eyes and then reached up to kiss him on his lips. He tased wonderful, like things I couldn't even put into words. His lips were hesitant against mine and full. I pulled away, smiling, "Let me go change."
"No." Alice pretty much growled at me.
I sighed, "Yes, let me try tackling a grizzly bear in this dress. It'll get ripped and I actually kind've like it."
"You could go nude." Emmett said, grinning and winking at Carlisle who rolled his eyes.
I actually kind've liked the idea.
Jasper shook his head, drifting away from the room. I looked after him, my smile fading, "What's wrong?"
"He has never seen a newborn with this kind of self control." Alice said and then drifted after him.
"Oh. Great. I'm still weird even after my death." I muttered.
"I don't know." Emmett said in a serious voice, smirking. "You haven't quoted Harry Potter once since you've awoken. You might be going sane."
I stuck my tongue out at him and then tugged on Carlisle's hands. "Come on then."
Carlisle and I exited the house. It was a sunny day and I stared, my hand outstretched as the sun bounced off my skin, sending sparkles out, glittering across the pavement. I stared at Carlisle whose face was glittering.
"You look so handsome." I murmured, wanting to take him to bed at that moment.
Carlisle smiled and I felt my heart do flips. Well. . . not my heart, but ya know.
"And you look absolutely breathtaking." He breathed.
"Except the eyes." I said with a sigh, preening as he swept a strand of my long black hair back from my face.
He gazed at me, sliding his thumb across my cheek and I relished the feeling of his hand. "Even with the eyes you are stunning."
"Well," I said, taking his hand, squeezing it lightly. "Let's go hunt some animals and make them gold."
Carlisle nodded, "Ready?"
I nodded, preparing myself, and then started to run.
It was amazing. It was better than my motorcycle. I flew across the forest, laughing a little, and when we reached the creek, I leaped without thinking, feeling myself almost fly as I crossed the water.
I landed lightly on the balls of my feet, continuing to run, thinking of nothing but the wind caressing my skin and then- Carlisle stopped me.
"We don't want to go to far." He purred. His eyes were raging between black and yellow and I smirked.
"Well hello, Lord. I see you're trying to make an appearance."
"Well," the eyes became completely black, "You look completely ravishing like this."
"You've completely taken over Carlisle." I complained lightly, walking my finger sup his tight sweater.
"He's trying to figure out your self control so he's to distracted to try and take over." Lord smirked before smashing his lips to mine.
Oh yes. I liked where this was going.
My back hit a tree, making the plant shake underneath my body. I barely felt the bark scraping against my impenetrable skin, pushing back fiercely against Lord's lips. So rough and smooth and delicious.
His hands ripped the dress from behind and I tore his sweater off of him. I growled, seeing the light blue buttoned up shirt underneath. "You wear to many clothes Lord."
"Blame Carlisle." Lord growled, biting at the skin on my neck. He pulled back and murmured, "I can leave a bruise. Good."
I chuckled before using strength and speed, sending the both of us crashing into an opposite tree as I pressed against him tightly.
And then I paused, lips hovering above his, "The kids?"
Lord's black eyes melted, becoming tawny again and Carlisle actually shook his head like he was trying to clear his mind. HIs eyes lingered over where he'd ripped part of my dress, revealing the top of my cleavage. He cleared his throat and said, "I do apologize for that. And they're at our house. We can go see them after we hunt."
I nodded, my mind focused solely on the hunt. "Let's find a few rabbits then."
He raised an eyebrow, "Rabbits?"
"Or squirrels." I muttered, thinking back to Vampire Diaries. "That's what they eat in Vampire Diaries."
Carlisle chuckled, reaching out his hand. I took it without hesitation. "Let's find you a mountain lion, shall we?"
I laughed lightly, running again. This time, I led, following my heightened senses to a cave.
"Can I just walk in there and eat it?" I questioned.
Carlisle seemed a little anxious and muttered, "Maybe we should find deer instead."
I raised an eyebrow. "It's not like the mountain lion is going to hurt me."
The mountain lion suddenly paced out of the cave, growling at me.
I could smell it, and while it was appealing, it didn't send me wild like I thought it might've. I stalked forward, avoiding its claws, and bit down into the neck.
I tasted the blood, gushing into my mouth. It was. . . sweet? I don't know how else to describe it. It was satisfying, but it tasted different and I realized that was because I was dissecting the different tastes of the blood. I could taste the water, the salt, and even the plasma. I wrinkled my nose a little bit, trying to ignore the taste that way.
I pulled back once I was done. I had done pretty well, I thought. I'd barely spilled any blood on my dress. I turned to look at Carlisle who had a strange expression on his face.
"What?" I asked, racking my brain. "Did you want some?"
"It's not that." He said softly, coming over and pulling me into his arms. "It's just. . . well first it's very hard watching you drain something that would normally kill you. And for another, you're thirst didn't take you over. You were very calm in your feeding. And. . . you also didn't seem to enjoy it."
"Well." I said, frowning slightly. "I've always liked big cats. Maybe I should go after a bear instead. Those scare me. I might not feel as bad about killing a bear than a cat. And well, for another, it was the taste."
"What do you mean?"
"I could taste the individual components of the blood." I explained, wiping my bottom lip. "The water, the salt, the plasma, it wasn't the best taste in the world."
"Oh." Carlisle whispered, frowning deeper.
"Now can we go see our kids?" I asked.
Carlisle was still staring at me and I recognized this face from my months of interning under him. He was analyzing me like a data project. "Carlisle?"
He snapped out of it. "Our kids? Yes, we can go see them now."
"It's only been two days. . ." I murmured, "What are they like?"
"They're wonderful." Carlisle said with a small smile, "Come on, I want you to meet them."
"Are they. . . have you noticed any signs of danger from them at all?" I asked in worry as we ran back, not to the main Cullen house, but our small cottage.
"Nothing." Carlisle said and then frowned slightly. "They bite a lot. Esme- she's the one whose been helping me take care of them but she hasn't told anyone else about them- she said that when our little girl bites, she doesn't feel anything. But the boys are venomous."
"Two boys and a girl?" I breathed out.
Carlisle nodded, "The boys are identical. The girl looks more like me."
I smiled. "What did you name them?"
We stopped running once were in front of the front door to the house. Carlisle stopped me, picking me up into his arms, carrying me across the threshold before kissing me on the lips.
I giggled as he set me back down on my feet.
"I'm letting you name them." Carlisle murmured.
I shivered, nervous. I already had boy names in my head, but nothing for the little girl.
"Carlisle?" Esme's voice floated out the door. She appeared, holding a very small baby with long golden locks in her arms. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of my daughter.
"Oh." I gasped.
Esme's hold tightened around the baby. "They're still part human Davina."
Carlisle wrapped his arms around me tightly. "Breathe deeply."
I was nervous, not wanting the scent of my daughter to attract me. I let out a stuttering breath and then breathed in.
I could smell honey, cinnamon, and parchment, like the way Carlisle smelled. And I could smell her blood which smelled sweeter than the mountain lion, but it was nothing. I felt nothing. I was still relaxed in Carlisle's arms and then asked, "Can I hold her now?"
Esme was shocked, looking from me to Carlisle.
"Maybe you have a self control gift." Carlisle said, but he didn't relax his arms. I sighed, staring a the blond girl.
"She doesn't look like she's two days old. . ." I whispered.
"She's around three and a half months." Carlisle whispered behind me.
Fear spiked through me, "So. . . she's aging much faster than normal?"
"Yes." Esme said. "All three of them are."
"But- but then- then they might not live very long." I panicked. Venom stung at my eyes and I quickly blinked.
"No, they might not." Carlisle said, kissing my cheek.
"Oh." I whimpered.
"Esme, I think she's alright." Carlisle said, letting go of me.
I stepped forward cautiously, extending my arms for the little girl. Esme handed her over and I shivered. Her skin was warm, her heartbeat faster than I thought it should be. Her eyes were ice blue and I looked at Carlisle, trying to imagine him with blue eyes.
He smiled a little, "I could put contacts in if that helps your imagination."
I giggled a little, the sound lighter and less horse-goat-sheep sounding than it used to be. More like an angel now I guess. "Sorry. Personally, I was thinking your eyes might've been green."
"Sorry to disappoint."
I was suddenly by his side, pressing my lips to his, our daughter between us, "You don't disappoint me. Ever."
Then I pulled away and was in the babies room in a heartbeat. The two boys truly were identical, around the same size as their sister.
"Do you have names?" Esme asked me quietly.
I nodded, "For the boys anyways."
The only difference between the boys was that one of them had short black hair while the other one had curls and they were a tad degree lighter.
I handed the baby girl back to Esme with reluctance, picking up the one with straight black hair. I held him out to Carlisle and said, "This is Samuel Carlisle Cullen."
Carlisle smiled, kissing the top of my head, before taking his son into his arms. I turned back, picking up the last baby, looking into his eyes and said softly. "This is Niklaus Kol Cullen."
Niklaus after the hybrid. Kol was after my brother.
I turned to the girl, having no idea what to name her. Nothing seemed to fit her right. Kijana? Jasiri? Temperance? Kisa? Naomi? Camille? Luna? Kiara?
"Caroline. . . Elizabeth Cullen." I finally decided.
"Those are all wonderful names." Esme decided.
I hesitated and then asked, "I feel so normal. Why?"
Carlisle shook his head, "This could be your gift. Self-control."
"Do the children show any signs of gifts?" I asked.
"Not yet." Esme said. "But of course, they might not be able to have gifts. Or maybe they'll develop later."
I nodded and then looked at Carlisle, "I need to make a call."
------------------------
I paced by the treaty line. I was terrified, unsure. Carlisle stood nearby. He had promised to be there so that I wouldn't hurt them.
"They're coming." Carlisle said and then laughed quietly. "I didn't have to tell you that."
I smiled a little. "It'll take some getting used to, I'm sure."
Sam appeared first and I was surprised he wasn't in wolf form.
I felt a smile break out over my face at the sight of him. "Hey Sammy."
"Hey shorty." He said, grinning. "You look. . . yourself. 'Cept the eyes."
I shuddered, "I hate the eyes. But. . . Carlisle thinks I have the gift of self-control. Yay I guess. I was kind've hoping to be able to shoot lightning from the sky but I'll take what I can get."
Sam raised an eyebrow, looking between Carlisle and I. "She really hasn't changed at all."
Carlisle chuckled, "No. No she hasn't."
"How is everyone?" I asked. "Have you heard from Jacob at all?"
Sam paused and then said, "How about you come down on the Rez."
I blinked. "What?"
Sam sighed, "Billy, Sue, Old Quil, and I. . . well we might've come up with a late wedding gift for you. We decided, as you're basically the wolves mother, you could come down on the Rez. You're the only one, mind you, although Carlisle, you're not that bad."
"Thanks." Carlisle muttered, but he looked worried, "Are you sure you're okay with this?"
I paused, glancing over at Sam and then sniffed tentatively. I cocked my head to the side, "You don't smell."
Sam looked surprised and then said, "You don't smell either. Well, not bad anyways."
Carlisle looked stunned. "I don't understand this at all."
I tilted my head, "Could it be because I'm- or was- half werewolf? So maybe I don't have an aversion to them?"
Carlisle hesitated, "I need to research this."
He was in front of me in a flash, taking my face in his hands, kissing me hard. I kissed back fiercely, wrapping my fingers into his hair. We kissed until Sam cleared his throat. "I'm as romantic as either of you, but I don't like watching my little sister kiss anyone."
I giggled, pulling back from Carlisle. "I'll see you back at our house, okay?"
Carlisle kissed the side of my head, pulling away slowly, and then he was gone.
I hesitated on the brink of the treaty line before carefully stepping over it. I looked around nervously and then said, "No booby traps?"
He chuckled. "None."
I reached my arms out hesitantly and then he pulled me into a hug. I inhaled his warm, comforting smell. Like jasmine and spices, sweat and leather rolled into one. I sighed. "I'm glad you smell the same."
"What do I smell like?" Sam questioned.
"Jasmine, spices, sweat, and leather." I mumbled, feeling embarrassed. "It's a good combination."
"Hmm." Sam said, pulling away, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, pulling me through the forest. "And you smell like honey, almonds, peaches, and lime."
I growled. "I know I smell like fruit. I've been told several times."
Sam chuckled.
Very soon, we were at Emily's house.
"Umm, Sam." I said in a small voice as Emily came out to greet us. I grabbed his shirt, hiding halfway behind him.
"Davina!" Emily cried happily, stopping short of me. I hesitated, almost trembling behind Sam. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Emily. I noticed Jared and Paul emerge, looks of excitement on their faces too.
"Hey Vampire mom!" Jared called, jogging over.
I shivered.
"It's alright Davina." Sam said. "You're not going to hurt them."
I inhaled deeply, smelling for Emily's scent directly. And though I smelled her, though her blood smelled divine, there was no unnecessary craving for it.
I let go of Sam's shirt a little, taking a few steps till I was closer to Emily, but still hesitating. "Hi." I said softly.
Emily threw her arms around me, taking me by shock, making me freeze. Sam was there in a second, worry in his eyes until I very slowly put my arms around her.
"That wasn't so bad." I mumbled as she pulled away.
Sam seemed rather relieved. "So. . ."
"I mean. . .you smell good." I said half-heartedly, still really nervous. Though I couldn't smell the werewolves as awful, my nerves were tingling like I knew I was being surrounded by enemies, "But I'm not craving after your blood. Or any blood for that matter." I frowned a little. "I hunted a mountain lion today. It didn't taste as good as I thought it might."
"You hunted a mountain lion?" Jared asked with a grin. "What was it like?"
"Boring." I said slowly. "It kind've just stood there while I killed it. Maybe it was in shock?"
"But you said it didn't taste good?" Sam asked, frowning slightly.
I shifted uncomfortably. They were okay with this conversation? "Well. . . I could taste everything individually. The water, the salt, the plasma. It wasn't very good. The water was most potent in taste, but it didn't taste. . . it didn't taste like blood really."
"Interesting." Jared said.
"Mom!" Seth's voice called from behind me and a brilliant smile lit up my face. I turned, dashing towards him and wrapping my arms around him. I was very careful not to squeeze him to tightly though.
"Hi Seth." I said with a grin.
I could hear Jared and Paul complaining behind me about how I hadn't hugged them.
I darted till I was in front of Jared and Paul and hugged both of them too.
"Paul imprinted." Seth offered.
My eyes lit up, "Really!"
Paul rolled his eyes but he was trying not to smile either. "Yeah. Jacob's sister. Rachel."
"Quil imprinted too." Jared said.
"Really?" I asked, astonished. "Did everyone imprint while I was dead?"
"No." Seth said glumly. "I haven't. Neither has Leah or Embry or Jacob or Collin or Brady."
I ruffled Seth's hair. "Well good. You're to young for love."
Embry and Quil showed up sometime later. I found out that Quil had imprinted on a two year old named Claire, who happened to be related to Leah and Emily.
Privately, I was thinking that it made sense they were imprinting on each other's family members. Jacob was a powerful member of the wolf family. Which meant his sisters' technically had the gene too. So it made sense for Paul to imprint on one of the sisters. And anyone related to Leah, Seth, and Emily would have strong genes too from Harry's side of things. Same with Quil's blood line.
I didn't stay long, not wanting to overstay my welcome for one thing, but also wanting to get back home to Carlisle.
Unfortunately, Paul still wasn't good at keeping his nose out of other people's business. "So what are you going to do tonight?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea."
"So you and doctor aren't going to. . . get it on?" Paul smirked.
I wish I could've blushed. I scowled at him instead, putting my hands over Seth's ears. "Not in front of the kids dumbass."
Paul snickered.
I got to my feet, swooping down and kissing Sam on the cheek. "I'll come back soon, I promise."
"Stay safe." Sam said and I smirked, rolling my eyes.
And then I was gone, running back for the treaty line, back into the forest, and back to my house.
Our house.
Carlisle and mine house.
I stepped inside.
"Carlisle?"
Carlisle was in front of me in an instant. "Shh, they're asleep."
"They sleep!" I said, delighted.
He nodded, smiling slightly. "Did you have a good time at the reservation?"
I nodded, "I was very happy."
"Good." Carlisle whispered, moving his lips to the skin underneath my ear. "Mm, do I get you all to myself tonight?"
I giggled, "Yes you do."
"Good." Carlisle growled.
Before I knew it, we were in our bedroom, on the bed. I was under him, his dark gold eyes practically glowing.
I yanked him down to me, my hands wrapped in his reddish-yellow locks, pulling his lips to crash down on mine. He growled against my lips, his tongue fighting for dominance against my open lips. Except this time, I could hold my own fight.
Our tongues mixed together, creating new sensations while his hands traveled down to my shirt. He didn't even bother unbuttoning it, ripping it in half instead and I was grateful that it was a new top I hadn't gotten attached to yet.
I rolled over, pressing him down to the bed, gripping his hips with my legs, squeezing tightly as I tore his shirt apart, blue buttons flying and scattering across the floor.
I pressed my lips right above his pants line, licking a stripe all the way up his chest, his neck, all the way to his earlobe before nipping at it. He growled again, his fingers pulling at the stretchy leggings I was wearing, pulling them downwards and they were discarded as well.
My fingers worked fast, undoing his belt, yanking it out of the belt loops, tossing it away. It fell to the ground with a dull clink. I unzipped the black dress pants, pulling them down quickly. His arms were behind my head in an instant, his body pressed against mine and I could feel his member pressing against my mound.
Our mouths moved furiously in sync with each other, our hands tangled in each others' hair. I moaned against his lips as one of his hands traveled down to my heat, rubbing my clit with lightning fast speed between his fingers.
The sensations were even more erotic as a vampire. They hadn't been lying when they said your emotions were heightened. This was at least ten times better than when I had been human.
"C-C-Carlisle." I moaned out. "Please."
He plunged three fingers into me, thrusting them in and out at a furious pace, rubbing my clit even faster.
My eyes rolled back in my head as I clutched his shoulders before I bit down on his bottom lip, his fingers bringing me over the edge, and I released all over them.
I could smell the arousal now, bitter and exotic and sharp. Carlisle slowly pulled his fingers from my warmth, sticking them in his mouth, licking them clean.
I wanted to ask if that actually tasted good, but didn't want to ruin the moment either.
Carlisle smashed his lips to mine again, flipping me back over on my back into the pillows. I could taste myself on him, something that seemed highly erotic and actually somewhat pleasant. My tastes and his tastes all mixed together.
"Carlisle." I growled, missing the fullness between my legs. I rolled over so that he was pressed into the sheets, angling myself to go down on him.
His hands shot to my hips, thrusting me back into the pillows, before pounding into me. He bottomed out and I gasped in pleasure, eyes rolling backwards before I recovered, bucking my hips to get him to move.
He moved in and our, faster than I thought possible, even with the speeds we could run.
I was a whimpering mess under him, surrendering to him completely. "Carlisle , please!"
"What baby? What do you need?" Carlisle purred lowly in my ear, his dick a blur as he thrusted in and out of me.
I whimpered, wanting more, "More, Carlisle, more."
"More what baby?"
My eyes rolled back into my head, my hands gripping his shoulders.
I had no idea what I wanted more of, I just knew I wanted more. "Faster."
The fuck? Could he go faster? Something was wrong with my br-
He thrusted even faster and I was practically screaming underneath him. His mouth, lowered to my breasts, flicking out at my nipple. The overstimulation was overwhelming. I barely got his name out as I clenched around his cock and milked it for all it was worth. He didn't stop, pounding me through my orgasm, drawing it out, chasing his own release.
The sensation was more than white static. It was a burning white fire that made my toes curl and now I saw how it had taken Emmett and Rose weeks to leave their house. I never wanted to leave this. I wanted Carlisle and I to continue going forever.
We were blessed with such short refractory periods it wasn't even funny.
This was probably going to be my favorite extra curricular activity outside everything else.
"CARLISLE!" I screamed as he twisted my nipple tightly between his smooth dexterous fingers, pulling it, sending the jolt straight to my clit at the same time I came.
My entire body was shaking and her wrapped one arm around me. My legs, wobbly, I jerked forward, the both of us landing off the bed and onto the floor. We didn't even break rhythm, barely noticing the stone floor beneath the both of us. Carlisle simply rolled over onto the carpet, pulling me on top of him, thrusting upwards into me.
We couldn't even get sore.
Carlisle moved his lips to my throat, biting, licking, sucking at my skin, purring with delight as large purple bruises popped up on my skin.
I growled, trying to mark him the same way, and failing. That caused enough confused for the both of us to slow down and observe things.
When we finally came to a complete stop, I was breathing shallowly and so was he. Carlisle ran his hand over my neck, observing the bruises.
He pulled out slowly, causing our combined juices to pool out onto his stomach and he chuckled lightly, kissing me.
"Let's take this to the bathroom, shall we?"
I wasn't as ecstatic, touching the bruises.
"Carlisle, what's wrong with me?" I asked in a whisper. "My skin marks, I don't thirst after blood, blood doesn't even taste that good to me, and I feel completely normal!"
Carlisle pulled me into his arms, carrying me to the bathroom, "There's nothing wrong with you darling. Maybe. . . maybe your gift delves farther than self control."
"So what is it?" I asked.
"Maybe it's more of a. . . normality gift. A gift that keeps you human in a vampire body. I wonder. . . " he drifted off, thinking deeply.
"What?" I questioned.
He looked at me, pulling out the handle on the bathtub- which by the way was huge- and let it fill with warm water. "I was wondering if you could eat human food was all."
I frowned slightly. "But vampires-"
"Vampires also can't bruise." Carlisle said, smiling almost sadly, running his fingers over my hickeys.
"Am I not a vampire?" I questioned. It was overwhelming and venom welled up in my eyes. "Did something go wrong during the transformation?"
"No." Carlisle said. "The only thing that could go wrong is you died. But you didn't. You are a vampire Davina. That much is obvious by the eye colour, the speed, the strength. You have all the physical attributes of a vampire. But when it comes to feeding, that's where you're different. I think it must relate to some sort of gift."
"Carlisle, if my skin can bruise, doesn't that mean I could be killed easier than a normal vampire?" I whispered quietly.
Fear flashed through his eyes for the briefest second. I knew he was thinking about the Volturi and the enemy I had made myself out of Jane.
"I. . . I don't know. There's no way to test it without hurting you either." Carlisle whispered. "I can't test it on you. I can't let anyone else test that on you."
"But evidence suggests it, right?" I questioned softly, throwing my arms around his neck, holding him to me.
"Yes." He said quietly.
I sat there for a long time before he slipped both of us into the bathtub. "It's okay." Carlisle whispered, "We'll figure it out. Everything will be okay."
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